Demonstrations


dales-restaurant-photo

Copyright Dale Rogerson

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Demonstrations

 

The four of us had met at the coffee shop for years.  Every third Friday, you’d find us in the booth at the back. We had one coffee, making it last while we caught up on gossip, family dramas and recently, politics.

My father always said never to argue about politics or religion and I usually never did. But Monica got all fired up about the recent demonstrations, said if you believed in something you should stand up for it and she was going to do just that.

We met in the coffee shop today as usual.

She didn’t show.

 

(It’s been a while – but as ever, huge thanks to Rochelle for her constancy and support for Friday Fictioneers)

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In Harms Way


My thanks to Rochelle for her photograph this week and for the continued support she gives to all the Friday Fictioneers.  Each week she posts a photo prompt and urges us all to ‘say what we see’ – I apologise in advance for my mood this week. The news stories and film clips from the many war-torn regions of the world have occupied my thoughts for most of the week, to write anything in a lighter vein has proved difficult.

 

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

Genre: Creative nonfiction

Word Count: 100

In Harms Way

In the early morning we claw at the overnight rubble and debris searching  for the missing. The children are terrified, the women distraught.  The angry and patriotic young men talk of taking up arms, while their mothers weep.

What rains down on us from the heavens is making our land barren, what little food we had is almost gone. Clean water is rationed and in short supply. Cats and dogs lie dying in our streets; it is only a matter of time.

War mongers and posturing politicians lie safe in their homes; their strategy reduces ours to dust, to memories.

++++++++

 

Man was made to Mourn: A Dirge – Robert Burns

Many and sharp the num’rous ills
Inwoven with our frame!
More pointed still we make ourselves
Regret, remorse, and shame!
And man, whose heav’n-erected face
The smiles of love adorn, –
Man’s inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!

 

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Where trees are fallen


Another week, another post for Friday Fictioneers. Follow our leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, then join our merry band.  Thanks this week for the photo go to Roger Bultot.

copyright-roger-bultot

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Where Trees Are Fallen

“Jarvis,the car! Get me away from these people.”

“They’ve just returned you as their MP, for a second time sir.”

 “And what happened to my previous majority?”

“Yes that’s odd, especially as you were born here sir.”

We don’t mention that, remember?

 “Sorry sir, I thought….”

“You didn’t think, otherwise you wouldn’t have allowed that moron in to rant at me”

 “But you altered the route of the new railway. The land had been in his family for years.”

 “Tough. It’s called progress.”

“Surely you could have listened sir?”

“I did. Now get the bloody car!

 

 “Sir, about the car…”

 

Give me a land of boughs in leaf,
A land of trees that stand;
Where trees are fallen there is grief;
I love no leafless land.”
– A.E. Housman

At the moment we have great arguments raging here about the new HS2 train which, if it goes ahead, will cut a swathe through huge chunks of the English countryside. The photo made me think of all the trees that are in danger, the ancient woodlands that will disappear.

 

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